


Piano Men

by TheMadKatter13



Series: The Tumblr Faultline [39]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Musical Instruments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadKatter13/pseuds/TheMadKatter13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://drunkenstrawberries.tumblr.com/">drunkenstrawberries</a>: one of them plays the piano for fun in the middle of the mall and then all of a sudden someone is playing along with him and they just kick it off from there :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrunkenStrawberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrunkenStrawberries/gifts).



> Prompt originally received 2015-01-02. First, there's no ship specified so I almost didn't do Johnlock because I couldn't figure out a way for it to work; so I cheated a little (again). Second, sorry to any pianist reading this: I am a lowly and out-of-practice violinist/string bassist and I have no knowledge of the skill playing a piano requires (only admiration and respect).

John had given up following Sherlock on his mall-wide inspection. Instead, he'd settled in the centre, on the empty bench of a piano displayed in all its polished, gleaming splendor. He watched his partner appear then disappear between shelves on the other side of store glass before darting out of the shop and into another, and waited for him to either get told to leave or be escorted out by security. When the detective began to make his way down a wing of the massive building, John finally turned his attention to the instrument he'd been leaning against for the last half hour.

It had been years since he last sat at one, and he settled his fingers hesitantly over the keys. The muscle memory was there, but it was faded, and he shifted his hands slowly from side to side and apart and together, trying to remember where they were supposed to go. Warily, he let them settle at where he thought was correct and slowly pressed the keys down, and then promptly winced at the discordant sound that emerged.

John stared down at the board, trying to remember which hand was in the wrong, or if they both were. He dragged them slowly apart and tried again. Better, but still off. He pressed them again, trying to hear the individual notes, but his ears had lost their ability to tell him exactly what was wrong. Feeling like a bit of a prat, he tried playing a tried and true beginner's classic: 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star', but at half the speed.

He'd only managed a few, off-key notes when a warm back pressed against his own, arms bracketing his ribs as hands slid under his own, taking ownership of the piano. His first instinct was to lash out, but Sherlock's chin was resting over his shoulder, the wild curls of his hair tickling John's Ear and sending vague strains of the familiar shampoo into his nose.

"You still surprise me, John," Sherlock said, voice low and warm with affection and making John smile. The hands under his moved slightly, fingers resettling before pressing out in a perfect chord that sent shivers down his spine. There was a soft press of lips to the side of his neck, and then Sherlock's fingers under his began to shift over and press down on the keys, a perfect 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' emerging from the belly of the instrument.

Now it was John's turn to laugh, Sherlock's knowledge of a children's song catching him off guard and delighting him in equal turns. He turned his head and caught the detective's lips in a slow kiss, his chest so warm and happy that he thought his heart would swell-to-burst. The fingers under his slowed and then stopped entirely as they lost themselves briefly in their adoration.

"Solve it then?" he asked in a low murmur when they parted. The quiet of his question let him savour the way the other man lingered close enough to let breath mingle in the small space between their lips.

"Pretzel stand manager," his consulting detective whispered back, tilting his chin to brush their lips together.

"Home then?" he prompted, licking his lips and feeling the tip brush against Sherlock's.

"Home," his husband agreed with a grin.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> A little fluff to start my morning: another morning commute, another ficlet. Reblog the [fill](http://themadkatter13fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/116738942308/one-of-them-plays-the-piano-for-fun-in-the-middle) or the [other thing](http://themadkatter13fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/116738950208/piano-men). Tschüß.


End file.
